


Forever Intertwined

by IndelibleEvidence



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-16 08:06:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndelibleEvidence/pseuds/IndelibleEvidence
Summary: Three months after leaving Colorado and Kurt Weller behind, Jane Doe is raking in nightly prize money as champion of an underground fighting ring, keeping a wary eye out for assassins out for the bounty on her head. One night, an unexpected opponent steps into the ring... Jane Doe/Kurt Weller, canon divergent, pre-season 3 fic.





	1. Forfeit

“And now, for the ninth night in a row, our reigning champion steps into the ring!”

Cheers went up around the room and the recorded rock music blared dramatically. The lights strobed and flashed enough that an epileptic would have been in serious trouble.

Jane Doe resisted the urge to roll her eyes, double-checked the supportive tape binding her hands and wrists, then ducked under the ropes into the makeshift fighting ring.

There were about fifty people here, almost all of them men, most of them suffering an excess of testosterone and a shortage of brain cells. Moscow’s underground fighting ring was technically illegal, but Jane had spotted an off-duty cop or two in the crowd. One of them had even tried his luck against her, back when she’d been fighting her way up the ranks. She’d trounced him like she had all the rest, but offered him her hand to shake afterwards.

She hadn’t been here long tonight. As the new reigning champion, all she had to do was show up at the end of the night, kick the ass of whichever poor bastard had bested all the others, and collect her prize money. At the end of tonight, she’d probably have enough saved up to move on, if she needed to.

“It’s Bambi!”

As the spotlight fell on her, Jane held up a single fist in acknowledgement of the spectators’ cheers, amused at the spectacle of the whole thing. It was a small crowd, but that just meant the people here already knew what she could do. Some of them were rooting for her, probably because she was a woman, and they enjoyed the eye candy of her tattooed body. Some of them were dead against her—probably because she was a woman, and they were feeling more than a little emasculated.

She caught the eye of Vladimir, the organiser, and he gave her a toothy grin. He was an okay sort, for a shady asshole who’d do just about anything for cash. When she’d signed up, using the name of the only fictional deer she could think of as a fighting moniker, he’d laughed uproariously, taken the entry fee she’d held out, and told her he’d call an ambulance once the first guy was done with her.

She’d wiped the smile off his face at the same time as she’d wiped the floor with her first opponent. After that, he’d built up a healthy respect for her, and for the cash she’d brought in over the past week or so.

“You’ve seen him fight his way up the ranks tonight. You know he’s more skilled than he seems. But can he beat our deadly deer? Gentlemen, give a warm welcome to…”

The spotlight fell dramatically on her opponent, and all of Jane’s anticipation, all of her adrenaline about the upcoming fight, spiked into an instant of total shock.

“The American!”

Instead of the brawny, oiled up, steroid-pumped type she was expecting, the bright beam of light illuminated a man whose body was only slightly toned. A man who spent as much time sneaking chocolate treats as he did working out. A man whose bare chest was covered in hair that she used to love burying her face in as she inhaled his scent.

Kurt Weller, FBI agent and Jane’s husband, stepped forward as the crowd cheered.

He was sweaty, a little grimy, and his lip had been split sometime earlier in the night. He didn’t smile or acknowledge the audience. His eyes were on her, and her alone, as he gave her a few seconds to process his presence. Then he cocked his head and raised an eyebrow in a familiar gesture that made her chest hurt: did she want to go a round or two?

Jane looked over at Vladimir and gave a slight shake of her head. The organiser’s jaw dropped, and he let out a curse of angry disbelief, but Jane didn’t give a damn. She was already crossing the ring, shouldering past the referee who tried to stop her, to meet Kurt halfway.

Her chest collided with his as she threw her arms around him, unable to believe he was really here. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think—all she could do was press her lips against his neck and breathe his scent, letting out a tiny sob of relief when he wrapped his arms around her in return, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

Kurt. Her Kurt. She’d missed him so much.

There was so much they needed to talk about, so much she needed to apologise for, but for now, none of that mattered. All she cared about was that he was here with her, holding her so tightly she could hardly breathe.

And he’d fought six other opponents to stand opposite her tonight. He had to be feeling battered and tenderised, even if his bruises weren’t visible yet. Concerned, she drew back to look him over.

“Are you okay?” She brushed her fingers against his split lip to indicate her point.

He nodded. “You?”

Before Jane could answer, the referee butted in, demanding that they fight or that one of them forfeit.

She took the wireless microphone the guy held out, and said clearly in Russian, “I forfeit the match and my title as reigning champion. I apologise to anyone who has lost money betting on me in this match, but I’m not going to fight the man that I love.”

She handed back the microphone. Then she turned and pressed a light, chaste but lingering kiss against Kurt’s lips, unable to resist.

As the crowd erupted—into cheers, jeers, curses and groans—Kurt eased back, smiling a little. “I love you too. Wanna get out of here?”

Jane nodded, her heart feeling lighter than it had in three long months. “Let’s go.”


	2. Forearmed

While Jane launched into a heated argument with the owner of the fighting ring, Kurt collected the night's prize money—a surprising amount for an organisation so small. Then again, the entry fee hadn't been cheap, especially since he'd paid twice the asking price to be able to fight that night.

He still couldn't believe he'd managed to catch up with Jane after all these months apart. Every night, unable to sleep, he'd rehearsed what he would say to her when he finally found her—words of anger and hurt, love and forgiveness. Every rehearsed script had vanished from his mind when the spotlight had illuminated her earlier. Still hidden in shadow, he'd been unable to do anything but stare, the pain of his superficial injuries fading away as relief surged through him.

She'd been stunned when it had been his turn in the spotlight. She'd looked across the ring, her expression analytical, obviously about to assess the strengths and weaknesses of the guy she was about to fight. Then her eyes had widened, incredulity becoming warmth and joy before she remembered the circumstances of their parting. Then her guard had gone up a little, but his pulse was already racing.

She was happy to see him. There was hope for them yet. Nothing else mattered.

And when she'd forfeited the fight, announcing to the whole crowd that she loved him—and some other stuff in Russian that she hadn't taught him—his heart hadn't felt so full since he'd watched her walking down the aisle towards him on their wedding day.

"You ready?" Jane moved up beside him, as Kurt took a paper bag full of cash from the scowling man whose job it was to dole out winnings. Obviously, the guy had been betting on Jane tonight—not that Kurt blamed him. No one who'd seen Jane fight would bet against her.

Kurt handed her the envelope as they left the seedy backstreet bar where the ring had its headquarters. "I think this is rightfully yours."

Jane tried to refuse, but he knew she needed the money more than he did right now. Sure, over the past few months he'd travelled to Italy, Bulgaria, Egypt and Iceland on her trail, before getting word of her Russian exploits from one of his contacts. The travelling hadn't been cheap. But he wasn't the one on the run.

After a token protest, Jane tucked the cash into the inside pocket of her oversized men's jacket. "You don't think you could have taken me?"

"When have I ever managed to kick your ass?" he asked, taking her hand as they walked.

"That motel in New Jersey."

He winced, remembering their fight in the motel hallway. They'd both been heartbroken, angry, determined to win, but she'd only been two weeks out of a CIA black site and her injuries had still been healing. If not for that, she would have managed to best him and make her escape, and he never would have seen her again.

"You were hurt," he said. "Doesn't count."

"Speaking of hurt, are you—?"

"A few bruises, that's all." As they left the warren of alleyways to reach a more well-travelled street, he stopped walking, turning her to face him. "Where are we going—your place, or mine?"

A shadow crossed Jane's face for an instant. "Yours."

"This way." He didn't want to know where she'd been holing up. He already knew she wouldn't come back with him, and he'd been searching flophouses and abandoned buildings used by fugitives for his whole career. If he saw one that she'd actually been living in, he didn't think he'd be able to let her leave again.

"So… Bambi…" He tried to lighten his thoughts and the mood with some teasing.

She rolled her eyes, amused. "Go on. I know you're dying to say it."

"You know Bambi's a stripper name, right?" He grinned.

She gave him a full-body nudge as they walked. "Bambi's a deer. Not a doe, but close enough. Maybe you spend too much time at strip clubs and not enough watching Disney movies."

"I'll tell the arms dealers who run guns out of strip clubs that, the next time I arrest them."

"How did you find me?" Jane asked, after a few moments of comfortable silence.

"Friend of a source of a contact. The tattoos stick in people's minds. I've been getting pretty regular intel on where you are, but you've always been gone again by the time I got there."

"Yeah," she said, sighing. "The tattoos don't help me stay incognito for long. I cover them when I can. At least the weather's getting colder and I have an excuse to wear scarves and gloves. But every now and then I need people to find me. It's how I get new leads to follow."

"How many?" he asked, indicating that they should cross the street.

She cast him a puzzled glance.

"How many assassins have caught up with you so far?" He didn't want to know, but he needed to.

"Four. Only one gave me trouble, though," she added, before he had a heart attack.

"That makes me feel so much better," he muttered.

The hotel he was staying at wasn't large or lavishly decorated, but it was clean and functional. Jane kept her hood up and her face averted from the desk clerk as they passed through the lobby. Kurt unlocked the door to his room and ushered her inside, not relaxing until the door was fully secured behind them.

"Let me close the drapes before we hit the lights." Kurt headed over to the window, glanced out to make sure no one was lurking outside, then pulled the flimsy curtains across the panes of glass.

Before he could turn around, Jane snapped on the lamp on the nightstand. The dim, cosy light was more intimate than he'd expected she'd want, but he wasn't going to argue.

He crossed to the other side of the bed and switched on that lamp, too. Now that they had some privacy and could discuss things properly, he had no idea where to start.

He wanted to just pull her down onto the bed, and damn everything else—but he'd just spent the past couple of hours taking down six guys hell-bent on beating him to a pulp, all in the name of proving they were tougher. He was sweaty, dirty and achy, and he needed to freshen up almost as much as he needed his wife.

"I'm gonna grab a quick shower, okay?"

Jane glanced over, surprised. "I don't mind a little sweat, Kurt."

"I know. But this is more than just a little."

He made it to the bathroom door before a thought occurred to him. "You won't run, right? While I'm in the shower?"

Jane's face grew guilt-stricken. "No, of course not. I know you have a good reason for not trusting me right now, but I promise I won't take off without saying goodbye. Not again."

For a moment, he couldn't make himself move, paralysed by the sudden, irrational fear that she'd disappear again. Then he nodded, told her he'd be right back, and shut himself into the bathroom.

Not wanting her to be out of his sight for longer than necessary, he rushed through his shower, being quick but thorough as he rinsed away the exertion of the evening. Just as he was about to shut off the water, he sensed rather than saw the bathroom door opening. Jane stepped in, completely naked. For some reason, she looked unsure of her welcome.

Kurt pulled the shower curtain farther aside without a word, letting his appreciative gaze and rapidly hardening cock communicate for him. Her confidence restored, Jane stepped into the tub and into his arms, her kiss gentle against his wounded lip, but unmistakably hungry.

He pulled her under the warm stream of water, unable to help but kiss her harder. It had been so long, and he'd missed her more than he could ever express in words. Her warm skin against his, her unmistakable scent, her tiny moan as he teased one of her nipples with his thumb—he needed to reclaim her as his, but he also needed to savour this moment for as long as he could.

She drew back, concern clouding her expression as her eyes fell on the bruise just beginning to show on his chest. She caressed the spot gently. "That one looks like it'll be nasty."

"Doesn't feel great," Kurt admitted. "But I'll bet the other guy feels worse."

As she had in the ring, she touched her fingers to his split lip, stealing his breath. He gazed down at her, still not quite able to believe she was real.

"I missed you," she whispered. "So, so much."

 _Then you shouldn't have left_ , a traitorous part of his brain supplied.

He ignored it. That was an argument for later.

Jane bent to kiss the emerging bruise she'd asked him about before running a suggestive yet critical eye over him, spotting a couple of contusions on his left arm and giving them the same treatment. The sore spot where one of the guys had driven an elbow into his upper back got similar attention.

When she spotted the spreading bruise below his right hip, she dropped into a crouch in front of him, meeting his eyes as she trailed her lips over the area. Kurt swallowed a groan, his cock at full alert as she teasingly nuzzled his inner thigh.

She didn't make him wait for long. After kissing upward from the base to the tip, she closed her lips around the head of his cock and caressed just the perfect spot with her tongue as she took him in her hand. Kurt braced himself against the wall as she dedicated her full attention to getting him off, her focus intense.

"Jane," he gritted out, trying not to lose control. She knew exactly how to drive him out of his mind, and she wasn't holding back, but he didn't want this pleasure to be so one-sided. "Not yet."

Reluctantly, she released his cock with a final provocative sweep of her tongue, then stood up to meet his needy kiss. She kept her fist lightly around his shaft, her slow strokes not firm enough to get him anywhere fast, but still enough to frustrate him. When he tried to slip his fingers between her legs, though, Jane grabbed his hand to dissuade him.

"Let me watch you come," she said against his lips. "I've missed it."

"What about you?" he managed to ask, as a firm upward stroke stole most of his rational thought.

"I can wait. I _want_ to wait," she added, before he could protest. "Let me give you this."

He groaned aloud as she sped up, jerking him off the way she knew made him crazy. The way she observed his every reaction, learned from it, refined her technique until he was on the brink of climax… God, he'd missed this. Missed her.

He spilled over her hand and his own stomach, a growl of satisfaction escaping his throat. As the pulses of disorienting pleasure faded, he opened his eyes to find Jane smiling.

"Even better than I remembered," she said, and kissed him.

When he broke for air, gazing down at her as they both caught their breath, Jane brought both hands up to cradle his face. The conflicting need and sadness in her expression mirrored his feelings exactly.

Unable to help himself, he pulled her into a tight hug. For a long time, they just held each other as the water cascaded over them.

 _I can't let you go again. Come home, Jane. Please._ He swallowed the words, knowing she would refuse.

Instead, he soaped up his hands and got to work, tenderly washing every part of her. The dark ink of her tattoos blurred beneath the soap bubbles, just the way he remembered. For her part, Jane closed her eyes and relished the attention. As he massaged shampoo into her hair, he wondered when she'd last taken the time to luxuriate in anything.

Once she was soap-free once more, she reached over to do the same to him, but he shook his head. "I took care of that before you came in. Let's just get dried off, okay?"

Reluctantly, she agreed, and once they'd shut off the water, she allowed him to wrap her in a soft, fluffy towel.

"I should really be the one taking care of you," she protested.

"You are. By letting me do this."

"Kurt…" Jane looked as though she wanted to cry.

He kissed her gently. "Did you forget I'm a control freak?"

"I didn't forget a single thing about you," she whispered against his neck, hugging him tightly.

After a few moments, he stepped back. "Come on. Let's go lie down."

Jane smiled and indicated her wet hair. "Give me two minutes to dry this, okay?"

She always had hated getting the pillow wet. That was another thing that hadn't changed. He kissed her forehead gently and left her to it, rubbing a towel over his own damp hair as he sat down on the bed.

There was so much he wanted to say to her, but equally, so much he wanted to do. Did this reunion mean as much to her as it did to him? She was hard to read sometimes.

He took her wedding ring out of his jacket and put it in the nightstand drawer, knowing they'd start to argue if he gave it back to her too soon, but wanting it nearby in case the right moment presented itself. He'd been carrying it with him since the day she'd left it on the bureau in Bethany's room, along with a note that basically gave him permission to move on with his life if that was what he wanted.

Kurt was determined to prove by the end of tonight that, assassins or no assassins, whether she was present in his life or absent from it, he still considered her his wife. What he didn't know was whether she still thought of him as her husband.


	3. Foreplay and Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, um... I don't know how this chapter is going to go down, exactly, because it's kind of awkward. As in, there's sexual content, but it's kind of not the stuff dreams are made of and things go wrong and then there's arguing. So anyone looking for totally hot smut with a ton of orgasms is probably not going to find it in this chapter. On the other hand, awkward sexual encounters happen all the time to real-life people, so I guess there's that! :D

Jane shut off the hairdryer and stared at herself in the mirror for a moment. When she went back into the bedroom, one of two things was going to happen. One, she was fully prepared for. The other, she perhaps never would be.

She knew she'd hurt him deeply by leaving. They were going to have to have a conversation about that, and it was going to be painful, on both sides. He'd accuse her of not loving him enough to stay with him through every hardship. She'd tell him she loved him too much to put him at risk. They'd both have plenty to say about each other's opinion.

She hated arguing with him, hated it when her words came out wrong and cut him more deeply than she'd ever wanted. She'd never be ready to walk into that kind of confrontation.

But she didn't think that would be quite yet. They'd missed each other too much to dive straight into conflict now. All she wanted was to lose herself in her husband for as long as possible, to take this unexpected blessing and squeeze every drop of happiness she could from it.

She shut off the bathroom light and quietly returned to the bedroom, where Kurt was standing naked at the window, looking out into the street.

"All quiet?" she asked, wrapping her arms around him from behind and peeking over his shoulder. Nothing looked suspicious—no lurking figures at street level; no telltale glint of reflected moonlight from a weapon at a window.

"Looks like it." Kurt let the curtain fall back across the window, turning in her embrace.

"Argument, or bed?" he asked softly, brushing his fingers through her newly dried hair.

About to suggest going straight to bed, she realised she was taking yet more control over the situation. That was what had gotten them into this in the first place. "I think I've made enough decisions in this relationship for a while. You should pick."

She thought she saw a flash of relief cross his face, but the lighting in the room was too soft to tell for sure. Before she could try to work out what it had been about, Kurt lifted her in his arms and carried her the few steps to the bed, before laying her down as though she were fragile, precious.

Jane reached for his hand and pulled him down beside her, curling her hand around the nape of his neck as she carefully kissed his split lip. She'd already made him come in the shower, but she was still uncertain exactly where she stood with him; if anything needed to change. She was usually the one who set the course in the bedroom, but tonight she wanted him to take charge.

Kurt deepened their kiss, raised up on one elbow to lean over her as his other hand skimmed across her skin. Not just straight to her breasts and down between her thighs, but gentle strokes down her throat, up the insides of her arms, down her ribs until she squirmed away from his touch with a half-laugh. She sighed against his lips as he circled her tattooed areolae with his fingertip, one by one, then hummed into his kiss when he teased a nipple between his finger and thumb—gentle, then rough, then soothing again.

Her breath hitched as Kurt slid his palm down her stomach, over her abs, then curled his fingers around her waist, trailing his lips down her throat. She tilted her head back to give him more room, hooking one of her feet around his thigh to encourage him to rest more of his weight on her.

Kurt slid farther down her body, his lips and tongue over her nipples sending frissons of pleasure right down to her clit. She spread her legs in invitation, arching against him, seeking friction, and in response he bit down gently on her nipple, then kissed it.

"Kurt," she whispered, already knowing where this was going to lead and needing to spur him on.

He began to trail his lips down her stomach, but then stopped with a muttered curse. Jane opened her eyes to see him with his fingers pressed to his split lip, only putting the pieces together when she saw a trail of bloody spots leading down her body.

"It's okay. Come here." She reached out for him, her disappointment that he wouldn't be going down on her nothing compared to her happiness that he was here at all.

Frustrated, Kurt hesitated. "Give me a sec—"

"That's not how you treat an open wound, Kurt. We both know that." She wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved back up her body, giving him a quick hug before drawing back to check his split lip. "It's stopped bleeding, but it won't stay stopped if you…"

Kurt sighed; he loved going down on her almost as much as she loved having him do it. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry; be creative." She gave him a mischievous look that never failed to ignite a similar expression on his own face. As he leaned in to kiss her, she ducked her head and kissed the sensitive spot behind his ear. "Touch me."

Kurt didn't need to be told twice, dipping his fingers down between her thighs with a growl of discovery at how wet she already was for him. He used his fingers the way he would have used his tongue—soft, teasing touches everywhere before he slid slippery fingers over and around her clit. Jane moaned softly as he found a seductive rhythm, his intimate knowledge of her body bringing her to the edge within a couple of minutes.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders as he triggered her climax, his name on her lips in a breathless cry. He let her grind against his hand as she slowly came down, trembling and temporarily satisfied.

"God, I want to taste you," he murmured, his voice frustrated against her ear.

"I know. Next time," she whispered, refusing to believe that there might not be a next time.

As though distracting himself from thinking the same thing, he pulled her on top of him, his hard-on pressing, warm and thick, between her thighs. She reached down, rubbed her clit up and down the length of him for a few delicious seconds, then froze as her brain caught up with her body.

"One second," she told Kurt, and got off the bed, every cell in her body protesting that she needed him inside her, right now.

Kurt let out a shaky breath behind her, as she fumbled in the inner pocket of her jacket. _Surely I haven't used them all yet—_

Relief flooded her as she found the condoms she had stashed away, and she returned to the bed smiling in triumph, holding up the birth control to enlighten a confused Kurt. "I had to stop taking my pill when I ran out. I know we were talking about starting a family, but now doesn't seem like the best time."

Rather than relieved, Kurt looked almost wary. Hurt, even. "And you're carrying condoms around Russia with you because…?"

Realising where his mind had gone, Jane mentally kicked herself. Her libido had obviously shorted out her brain. "Kurt, the lubricant is flammable. I've been using them like tinder for campfires. You never learned to do that?"

He rubbed his hand over his eyes for a moment, sighing. When he looked up at her again, his expression was apologetic. "I'm sorry, Jane. I just…"

"No, _I'm_ sorry." She curled up beside him, ignoring what her body wanted and instead stroking her fingers down her husband's face. "It's logical that you'd have trust issues. I should have told you about my pill before we started."

He pulled her back on top of him, hugging her close as she straddled his hips. Jane pressed her face against his neck as he said softly, "I'm screwing this up, I know."

"Screwing what up?" She spoke against his skin, not wanting to sacrifice even a tiny bit of their contact.

"Making a good case for you to take me back."

Now Jane sat up, shocked as she stared down at him. "Kurt, you're still my husband. The man I love. I don't need to take you back. I've been yours this whole time."

He frowned up at her, seeming just as thrown by her statement as she had been by his. "You left your ring."

"In case _you_ wanted to move on. I didn't want you to be tied into a marriage with someone who wasn't there. Didn't you read the note?" Jane felt as though her heart was breaking all over again. _How could he think…?_

Kurt sighed. "We should have had the argument first."

"Yeah, we should have." She gave him a sad smile and got up, reaching for her underwear. The mood had been shattered by the misunderstandings between them. "Let's talk about this for a while."

* * *

Partially dressed, they sat together against the headboard, hand in hand. Kurt tried to figure out where to start, still blindsided by her words.

He started with the one thing he knew was the absolute truth. "I love you, Jane."

"I love you, too," she half-whispered, her shoulders slightly raised, as though she knew there was a 'but' hot on the heels of his statement.

He couldn't help but prove her right, the words leaving him in a rush. "But what the hell were you thinking? Taking off in the middle of the night after you agreed we could talk about it the next day? Leaving a note and your ring? How did that seem like the best course of action to you?"

Jane had lowered her head at his words. He couldn't catch her eye to tell what she was thinking, but her distress was obvious. He hated hurting her, but she'd hurt him first, and damn it, they needed to sort this out.

"You did read the note, right? You should know my reasons."

He'd read the note, all right. About a thousand times over the past three months. "Yes. I read the note. I know you thought you were doing me a favour. I know you valued my safety and Bethany's over our marriage. And I know that you listened to my thoughts on the issue and decided to do whatever the hell you wanted, regardless of my opinion."

She glared at him. "That's not what I—"

"No, Jane." All the hurt, all the pain, all the anger he'd been carrying around for the past three months was unleashed now, and he wasn't going to stop until she understood just how much her disappearance had eviscerated him. "You need to hear this, so for once in your life, just listen."

Jane looked startled, then outraged, pulling her hand from his, but she pressed her lips shut and said nothing.

"You looked me straight in the face that night, when I said we could figure something else out, and you said 'okay'. I don't know if you were already planning to run off when you said it, or whether it came to you later, but we agreed, as a _couple_ , to come up with a better solution, and then you threw that away."

Did she even understand why this mattered to him? He couldn't be sure.

"Jane, a marriage is a partnership. Love alone isn't enough. When you ran off, that told me that you didn't respect my opinion enough to work with me on this. It told me you didn't trust me to come up with a better plan, or to have your back."

Jane looked stricken now. She opened her mouth, then caught herself and closed it again, her eyes luminous with hurt and regret. All Kurt wanted was to draw her into his arms, but he couldn't. Not until this was done.

"When I woke up and saw that ring, it was like the world turned upside down. You and Bethany are equally important to me, and knowing that you'd gone was like…like if Allie turned around and told me I couldn't see my daughter anymore. Do you think I wouldn't fight that decision? Did you think I wouldn't fight for you?"

"Kurt," Jane started softly, but he shook his head.

"I'm almost done, I promise. Just this one last thing."

Jane nodded, swallowing hard.

"I searched for Taylor Shaw for twenty-five years before I found out she was murdered. You know how much that ripped me apart. I didn't know if I'd be searching twenty-five years for you. I didn't know if I'd get a call from some coroner in Brazil or Australia or Cambodia, telling me that a corpse with my name on her back had been found, and wanting to know if I could identify the body. Fuck, Jane, you have no idea how scared and worried I've been. Every time someone called my cell phone, I thought…"

He shook his head, trying to swallow the lump in his throat before his voice cracked any further. Jane's hand slid over his, and he looked up at her, unsure if he was angry or just heartbroken. Blinking away the tears in his eyes, he saw that she was struggling not to cry, too.

For a moment they just stared at each other, Kurt not hiding the rawness of his grief and Jane taking it in, processing just how much damage she'd done to him.

"Is there more you want to say?" she asked tentatively.

"No. I'm done." He felt exhausted, but also unburdened. For better or for worse, he'd made himself clear.

She nodded, and took a deep breath before she began to speak.

"I didn't do this to hurt you, but I did know that you'd be hurt, and I did it anyway. That wasn't fair of me. You're right. I should have respected you more, and you have every right to be angry."

He nodded, acknowledging her words.

"But Kurt, you would rip yourself to pieces to protect the people that you love. It's one of the things I love most about you, but it's also one of your biggest flaws. You'd protect me by coming with me to find the bounty hunters. You'd protect Bethany by staying away from her. Do you think you wouldn't start to resent me for the circumstances keeping you away from your daughter? Do you think you wouldn't hate yourself for not being there for Bethany?"

"No, I—" he began, taken aback.

She held up a hand to silence him. "Has she started crawling yet?"

He smiled a little, despite himself. "Last week."

Jane smiled too, proud and sad. "Imagine how you'd feel if you'd missed that. If you were on the run with me, and then you visited Bethany when things calmed down a little, and she was walking and talking and she didn't recognise you. If she thought Connor was Daddy because you hadn't been there for years."

Kurt sighed. He saw her point, but at the same time… "I would never blame you."

"Maybe not. But I know you, Kurt. You would blame yourself. I'm a hundred percent sure of that. And I couldn't watch you tear yourself apart because of my past." She gave a tiny shrug. "If that sounds selfish, maybe it is. But I wasn't just thinking of myself. I was thinking about what would cause you the least amount of pain, and keep you safe at the same time."

"You had to know how much this would hurt me."

She closed her eyes. "I think I underestimated a little. A lot. I…I forgot about Taylor until I was already gone. When I remembered, I told myself it wasn't the same, because I'd left a note. But when you brought it up just now, I realised it was exactly the same to you, wasn't it? It was someone disappearing when you thought you should have been responsible for keeping them safe."

When she opened her eyes, the depth of shame and sorrow in them took his breath away. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I thought that taking the decision out of your hands would stop you from sabotaging your own happiness for me. I never stopped loving you. I didn't want to leave you. I thought this was the choice that would be easiest on you and Bethany."

He touched his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. "How could you think I wouldn't follow every lead I had to get you back?"

Jane kissed his fingers before pressing his palm to her chest, an achingly familiar gesture. "I hoped you'd understand."

"Did you think I'd actually start dating again?" He was genuinely confused. "I assumed you'd left your ring because you were leaving for good."

"No," she whispered. "If I can get this bounty off my head, I'll come back to Colorado. But Keaton was right. It's an impossible situation. The only way they'll take the bounty off my head is when they verify the kill—a positive ID from a fingerprint and a lack of pulse—and before you get to meet Doorhaus, the guy who controls the bounties, you have to set up a rendezvous through a middleman. Every time I track down a middleman, I hit a dead end. For these guys, reputation is worth more than life. They know they'll be tortured for weeks before they're killed by Doorhaus if they put him at any kind of risk, and they'd rather get a quick death from me."

"There has to be a way," Kurt insisted. "Maybe we can ask Patterson…"

"Kurt. She left the FBI for a reason. She was traumatised by my case. I won't make her any more—" She interrupted herself with a groan, hitting her head gently against the headboard. "When I disappeared, you got in touch with her, didn't you? She's been working her ass off on this."

"Did you think your friends wouldn't want to help?" he asked softly.

Jane looked over at him with frustration in her eyes. "I hate being a damsel in distress, with everyone falling over themselves to solve my problems. It makes me feel weak."

"That's not how we see it. We love you. We want to keep you safe. We'll do everything we can to do that. You'd do the same for us." He reminded himself how little love she'd received during the parts of her childhood she'd managed to remember, and how little she valued herself compared to other people. That slotted another piece of the puzzle into place for him.

"Jane… You thought I'd move on with my life. Forget about you."

She wouldn't look at him. "Not right away. But eventually… I hoped you'd be happy with someone again. For your sake"

"Never. Jane, you're my _wife._ No one means more to me than you do. No one ever will." He tilted her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I know you won't come home. I won't even ask, because it's a waste of time. But we have to figure out a way to work together on this. Stay in contact. Meet up every once in a while. Use our friends, our contacts, our resources."

"And when one of the bounty hunters figures it out? When they hold you or Bethany hostage and get a message to me, telling me to come and be killed, or they'll kill you or your baby? What then, Kurt?"

He ground his teeth. "We can be careful. Burner phones. Dead drops."

"Do you really want to gamble with Bethany's life?" Jane shook her head. "I hate being without you. I miss our home, our life. But to keep the two of you safe, I would give it all up forever. You know you'd do the same if you were me."

He would. That was the hardest truth to stomach. She was right.

"Jane, I can't watch you walk away not knowing when I'll see you again. _If_ I'll see you again. Give me some hope to hold onto. Please." He knew his desperation was showing, knew he wasn't making this easier on either of them. But he couldn't accept this uncertain future. He _refused_ to accept it.

Jane was still and silent for a moment, her eyes closed. When she looked at him again, there was a glimmer of calculation in her eyes.

"As much as I hate to be indebted to Keaton for anything else, passing messages through the CIA might be our best bet. They have operatives in most countries, so if he's willing to send agents to dead-drops near where they're posted, I can leave updates for you, and you can reach me if you have new intel. But this is assuming Keaton's willing to play ball, and I don't know if he'll do that for us. He'd have to get me a list of dead drop locations I can use, and I'd need to be able to get to them on designated dates, and not too frequently, or it might tip off any observers."

Hope rising in his chest, Kurt nodded. "You can bet they've got a whole team somewhere in Moscow. And Keaton's been tracking this guy. You're probably his best hope to find him. Is there somewhere you think would make a secure dead-drop location for the list of other dead drops?"

They planned for a short while, Kurt all too aware that she was increasing her risk of exposure to communicate with him. He was certain, though, that she couldn't get this bounty off her head alone. Help would have to come from more specialist areas—most likely, Patterson's expertise would be invaluable, though she'd gone to work for a software developer in California a couple of months before their wedding, and had been talking about founding her own firm last time they'd spoken.

Once they'd put as much of a plan together as they could, Jane snuggled into Kurt's embrace, sighing. "Before you ask? Yes, I am aware that this is probably the plan we would have come up with if I'd waited until the next day like you suggested, instead of running off."

Despite the dire situation, he couldn't help but smile. "I wasn't going to say it, but now that you mention it…"

She kissed his bare chest. "If we get through this, I promise I'll stop making joint decisions on my own."

" _When_ we get through this." He tightened his grip on her, wishing he never had to let go.

"Speaking of when…" Jane gently extricated herself from his embrace to look at him. "I have enough cash to leave the city tomorrow. I only stayed here as long as I have because I was low on funds. If you could find me, the bounty hunters can find me. We're just lucky they haven't already."

Kurt's heart sank. "You're telling me we only have a few hours until you disappear again."

She nodded, her expression desolate, but determined. "I'm sorry. I can't risk staying longer. And I can't risk _you_ staying longer, either."

He swallowed the urge to argue, knowing he would do neither of them any good if the bounty hunters decided he was useful bait. Jane had to appear to have left him for good, cutting all ties.

"Is there anything you need? I can free up some more cash if—"

"You," she whispered, silencing him with a gentle finger to his lips. "I just need you."

 


	4. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Kurt say goodbye.

Kurt reached over to pull something out of the nightstand drawer. “I brought this with me. Just in case.”

Jane’s heart leapt as he opened his hand to reveal her wedding ring. She took it from his palm carefully, tilting it to read the inscription inside. _Fates Forever Intertwined – K & J_

Despite the words being taken from the lips of Kiva Garen, the more-than-a-little eccentric, ruthless former owner of LeakHub, both Kurt and Jane had agreed that it was working together on that case that had shed their final few doubts about wanting to be together. The polygraph they’d taken had gotten them to admit more than they might have volunteered otherwise, and though it had taken them a little longer to officially get together after that, their first almost-kiss since Jane had learned her true identity had occurred straight after.

“Our fates will be forever intertwined,” Jane murmured, looking from the ring up at Kurt. “I still want that. Please don’t ever doubt it, no matter where I am.”

She offered the ring to him. “Want to do the honours?”

He took the ring from her right hand, smiling almost shyly, and Jane held out her left. His gentle touch made her skin tingle as he slowly slid the ring back into place on her finger, where it belonged.

“There,” he said, his voice husky. “I know I can’t go with you, but I’ve carried that ring with me every day since you left. When you look at it, you can remember how much I love you.”

Jane straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing as close as she could get. “I love you, too.”

He inhaled deeply against her neck, then exhaled a shaky breath. Between her thighs, she could feel him beginning to grow hard again, and she nuzzled his shoulder in appreciation. “Putting on a wedding ring as foreplay?”

He gave a soft laugh, drawing back to look at her. “Hey, you were the one who got in my lap. And I think the ring-on-finger thing is way more suggestive than people like to admit.”

Jane tilted her hips, rubbing against him. “I think they would have frowned on us doing this at the altar, though.”

“Mmm…” He reached over beside her to the condoms she’d placed on the bed. “You want to do the honours?”

Jane knelt up as she unwrapped the birth control, taking her weight off him so he could push down the underwear he’d put back on for their discussion. As soon as his cock was accessible, Jane lowered herself back onto his thighs and teasingly rolled the condom down his thick shaft, while he tugged her underwear aside and stroked his hand over the wet, hypersensitive skin beneath.

“No more waiting,” he growled, tugging her hips forward.

Jane lifted up and slid down onto him, moaning as he filled her, just as slowly but surely as her finger had filled her wedding ring. “Missed you.”

“Missed _you_.” He gave her a swift, hungry kiss when he was all the way inside her. “Fuck, Jane, you feel…”

She rose just as slowly, until he was only barely inside her, then sank down again, making sure they were both ready for what she planned. Then she opened her eyes to meet his, finding his gaze already on her. “You ready?”

“Always.” The heat in his expression sent a quiver through her.

She increased her pace within a few undulations, grabbing onto the headboard behind him as she gained momentum. Every time she fell on his cock, she increased the force of it, until they were both panting, moaning, whispering curses and endearments interchangeably. Kurt dug his fingers into her hips, her ass, helping her move and meeting her every time she lowered herself. His upward thrusts sparked more pleasure every time, until her whole body was shaking through a glorious, white-hot climax.

Kurt kept up her rhythm as she rode it out, groaning as her body’s response sent his own arousal skyrocketing. “Jane… Oh, fuck, I—”

He lost his train of thought as she regained the strength in her thighs enough to take over again, riding him fast and hard as he ripped her sports bra up over her head, threw it aside and moulded his slightly rough palms over her breasts. The extra friction against her nipples tipped Jane over the edge again, and she gasped his name, almost collapsing over him as she transferred her grip from the headboard to his shoulders.

Kurt gave her a hot, hard kiss while he bucked up into her, each urgent movement prolonging her orgasm. She sensed his struggle to hold on and dug her fingernails lightly into his shoulders, drawing back from his kiss to shake her head. “No more waiting.”

He guided her to slam down onto him a few more times, then wrapped his arms around her, rocked hard and deep into her as he came, her name on his lips. Jane didn’t know if she was still coming, or if he’d triggered a third climax, but she held onto him tightly, sighing his name in return.

“I love you,” he whispered, his embrace not loosening even after their shared storm of pleasure had passed. “God, I love you, Jane.”

Her heart pounding and breaking at the same time, she kissed his neck. “I love you.”

“Stay with me for the rest of tonight. Get some sleep. I can keep watch for bounty hunters.” He stroked his fingers up and down her spine, his lips against her shoulder.

“Are you kidding?” Jane smiled sadly, drawing back to look at him. “I don’t know when we can be in the same country again, let alone the same room. I’m not wasting a second of our time sleeping.”

Kurt’s eyes were loving, but worried. “You should. You’ll need to be alert for threats.”

“I can sleep when I get out of Moscow. I want to spend every moment I can with you.”

* * *

Kurt had lost count of the number of times he and Jane had told each other they loved each other over the past eight hours. They’d spent most of it curled up together under the covers, talking and exchanging soft kisses. His heart was aching almost as much as his body, the hits he’d taken at the fighting ring yielding bruises he’d feel for days. He didn’t care about the physical hurt as much as the emotional turmoil he and Jane shared. Their time together was almost over, and they had agreed not to meet up in person until absolutely necessary, when they were ready to take Doorhaus down. If it had just been his own safety that hung in the balance, he would have risked it. But he wouldn’t put his daughter at risk, not even with both Allie and Connor looking out for her.

Halfway through the night they’d used Jane’s last condom, taking their time for their second round, a slow, loving exploration of each other’s bodies. Though Kurt had still been frustrated by the limits placed on him by his split lip—he still couldn’t go down on his wife—he’d tried to make up for it in every other way he could. Jane, facing no such limitations, had driven him crazy with every tiny touch of her fingers and mouth, before finally pulling him over her, into her.

Now they were both watching the light that filtered through the curtains growing brighter, their mood more subdued with every minute that passed.

“So, I have to ask,” Jane said, trying a smile that almost would have fooled him if he hadn’t sensed her dread on a gut level. “Why did you fight six guys to challenge me in the ring last night? You could have waited for me at the exit or stood ringside while I fought.”

“Honestly?” Kurt had to laugh at himself a little. “I had some frustration to work out. And I didn’t want to follow you around like a potential assassin, then have you break my arm before you realised who I was. But mostly I just wanted to hit something.”

Jane kissed his shoulder, sighing. “Yeah. That feeling is familiar. Luckily, I have a never-ending supply of ambitious targets to take out. Speaking of which…”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s barely dawn. You can’t stay a little longer?”

“I wish I could, Kurt. You have no idea.” Jane sat up and reached for her clothing, her back to him.

Kurt sat up and traced the tattooed letters of his name with a finger, then slipped his arms around her waist from behind before she could stand up. She leaned back against him, her hands closing over his arms and her head falling back against his shoulder.

“Please,” he murmured in her ear. “Let’s take a shower before you go. We could both probably use one before we head out, and it gives us a few more minutes together.”

She was quiet for a few moments, and he sensed her internal struggle. “Okay,” she finally agreed, surrender in her voice. “A few extra minutes probably won’t hurt.”

As he had the night before, Kurt took his time, covering Jane’s tattooed skin with soap and massaging shampoo into her hair, then unhooking the shower attachment from the wall to rinse her off. Jane did the same for him, and though his hair was so short that it needed no attention, she gave him a scalp massage anyway, kissing the back of his neck when she was done. He tried to memorise every moment of her touch, knowing his brain would never be able to store enough memories of her.

When they were both clean, they wrapped their arms around each other again, holding tightly. Then Jane reached out a hand and killed the power on the shower unit beside them, and he sighed, drawing back from her to grab a towel.

They couldn’t keep stalling. This had to happen.

They dried off and dressed slowly, the atmosphere resigned. When Jane picked up her jacket, Kurt helped her into it, just for an excuse to be near her.

She gave him a sad smile and whispered her thanks, and he wrapped her in a final embrace, too emotional to speak.

“We’re gonna get through this,” she told him, squeezing him harder.

“Damn right, we are.” He kissed the side of her neck before letting go of her, willing his emotions to calm, at least for long enough to say goodbye.

For a long moment they just gazed at each other, committing every tiny detail of each other’s faces to memory. Then Jane made a tiny, despairing noise and kissed him desperately, and he could sense her longing to go home with him, her distress that she had to leave. As she began to pull back, he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her again, pouring all of the love and need and frustration he had into it. _Stay safe, my love. Come back to me alive and whole._

There were tears in his eyes when he opened them, and as he blinked them away he noticed she was on the verge of breaking down, too.

“I know we can do this, Jane. When they come for you, you give ‘em hell, all right?”

She nodded. “Be careful on your way back home. And give Bethany my love, okay? Keep both of you safe.”

After a moment, she tensed as though she was about to move back, then threw herself forward at him one more time, her kisses emphatic, almost rough. He tasted blood only a moment before she drew back, her face filling with remorse at having torn his split lip open again, but he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

They kissed again, her tongue flicking out against his wounded lip for a moment. When they parted again, he brushed a trace of his blood from her mouth before attending to his own lip.

She stepped back, taking hold of his left hand and kissing his wedding ring. “Forever intertwined, remember? I’ll be home before you know it.”

He nodded, fighting the urge to pull her close again. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to keep drawing this out, not now. “I’ll be waiting. Just promise you’ll stay on your guard.”

“I promise.” As though to demonstrate, she turned and opened the door to his hotel room, leaned out cautiously and assessed her surroundings. “It’s clear for now. I have to go.”

“I love you.” He remained where he was through sheer willpower, her safety his focus now. Any distraction from him, and she might overlook something.

“I love you _so_ much, Kurt Weller.” She gave him a smile that simultaneously broke his heart and healed it, reaching out to brush her fingertips over his jawline for a fleeting instant. Then, before he could react to the touch, she was gone, striding purposefully down the empty hall as she flipped her hood up to obscure her features.

She didn’t look back before she turned the corner and moved out of his sight.


End file.
